Tag: writingexercise

Posted on

Writing Prompt #6: Bitter Nostalgia

“A feeling of love and nostalgia gripped her heart every time she looked at that photograph of …. “

A feeling of love and nostalgia gripped his heart every time he looked at that photograph of the two of them, crinkled at the edges in spite of his care over the years. It was a sharp feeling, bittersweet at best, and it always eventually left him breathless with pain.

He didn’t think it would ever go away. 

Sofia and James. She stared out at him, as serene and lovely as the night they met. The still image couldn’t capture the playful vivacity she’d had in life, carefully cultivated and carefully wielded. She’d caught his eye. He’d asked her to dance. Her husband had been so busy that he hadn’t noticed her waltzing with the young merchant he’d snubbed only hours before.

In her arms, waving gleefully at the camera, was James. Jem. He would have been… four years old. As bright and clever and playful as his mama in spite of the suffocating rigours of life as a dignitary’s son.  

He felt the guilt crawl up his throat, choking him. They’d never been his in the first place… and it was his fault they were gone now. 

They’d been together for less than a year, but it had been the happiest year of his life. She’d filled his life with passion and laughter and intrigue while James had instilled a parental fondness that he hadn’t known he possessed. Everything had finally fallen into place; he’d had everything he needed… and still he’d wanted more. He’d been hungry for so long, he hadn’t known what it was to be satisfied.

That mistake had killed them both in the end. 

So this is absolutely the same character from Writing Prompt #2, and he’s one of my favourite characters from the ttrpg I’m currently running. This is all backstory of his that my players haven’t found yet and maybe they won’t ever get there… but I adore him and all the complicated decisions he’s made.

That’s all for me this today! Please like, comment, and share if you enjoy what you’ve read. 

Above all, be kind to one another. 

Love, Charlotte

Posted on

Writing Prompt #4: Wonder

The feeling nestled under her breastbone like a small bird, alive and restless, as her feet sank into soft loam, leaving footprints behind.

Her senses were sharper; insects and small creatures fled at her approach, their skittering clear as the sound of her own steps. She felt more real than she ever had, just a slip of a girl moving silently through the trees. Just another shadow at dusk. Her mother had always dissuaded her (half-heartedly) from exploring past the periphery of the great forest their cottage nestled against, but at the end of the day they were too much alike. Her mother knew that her daughters were proud and stubborn and dreadfully curious, so she let them run free.

Rosie had run to the sea, but Ada was drawn to the forest.

The forest really belonged to her mother anyway, so why would there be anything to fear? The sharp scent of fir and early frost dominated over the sweet scent of decay. Autumn was giving way to winter. The soft things were dying, leaving space for the hardy, sharp things to emerge. Things like her, she thought, as that small bird in her ribcage ruffled its feathers and sang.

She had once asked her mother who had named the Witchwood and why; her mother had replied that that had always been its name as far back as anyone could remember, though no witch or hag had ever lived there. No, there wouldn’t have been, Ada thought, as night fell and still she continued on. Because it had been waiting.

Waiting for her. 

Am I taking inspiration for these from established characters I already use for my own ttrpg games? Yes. But when you’re working full-time, freelancing, and also taking another writing class because you didn’t expect that you’d get really busy… you take inspiration where you can get it.

Plus, can I really help loving my favourite character’s daughters? In the campaign I’m running right now they’re only twelve, but I like thinking about them and what their stories are going to be someday. Rosie will grow up to be a swashbuckling pirate just like her father, and Ada will end up a proper storybook witch-hag in a cottage of her own. Not quite like her mama, but still such a satisfying direction.

They’re absolute sweeties and also terrors to behold hahaha.

That’s all for me this today! Please like, comment, and share if you enjoy what you’ve read. 

Above all, be kind to one another. 

Love, Charlotte

Posted on

Writing Prompt #3: Meadowlark

It’s another writing prompt this week!

This time, our assignment was based on the following snippet, which I used as the first line of a larger passage: “The playful intimacy she experienced with him was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.”

She vaguely recollected something akin to it in her foggy past, but she no longer truly recognized herself in those remembered moments. That had been a different time. She had been a different person – a gentler, kinder person – before everything had gone wrong.

She’d had lovers since then of course, but never for longer than a single night and it was a rare thing to find someone willing to overlook the strangeness and death that lingered on her skin like perfume. Rarer still to make friends even if she had wanted to and she hadn’t.

She could admit to herself that she was lonely, and had been for a very long time.

Now, even more twisted than before, here was someone who… didn’t care. Even better – or worse – , someone who embraced the sharpness and off-putting wrongness of her without flinching. Someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge her.

He was charming, he was intelligent, and he was ruthless, but above all else he was playful, and it was that quality that had her cautiously prowling around the idea of loving again. Perhaps not the same way she could have before, softly and warmly, but it would be a kind of love all the same. 

I wrote all these prompts for a creative writing course I took in the fall, and it didn’t escape my notice that the majority of the other students wrote literary fiction and romance novels. Both great genres with stories that I’ve loved, but not generally my cup of tea. For better or worse, I’m a sci-fi, fantasy, and horror enthusiast to my core (though I can’t emphasize enough how important it is to branch out as a writer and read from MANY genres).

I’m starting another short story focused writing course this week with the same teacher, so I’m sure I’ll plenty more to share in the coming weeks.

In the meantime, please like, comment, and share if you enjoy what you’ve read. 

And don’t forget to be kind to one another. 

Love, Charlotte

Posted on

Writing Prompt #2: Masks

I’ve got another writing prompt for you.

This time, the assignment was to articulate a character’s emotions of humiliation, alienation, or regret (without relying on the body or describing physical sensations as a fallback) based on a quote from Kafka: “I was ashamed of myself when I realized life was a costume party and I’d attended with my real face.”

That’s right in my wheelhouse, so I came up with the following:

Courtiers and merchants, all the richly dressed guests of the nobility, swirled around him in a suffocating press of bodies.

He should have known better.

How many times has Vidala told him? Truth is a coin that you must use sparingly, and for the love of god, don’t waste it on a pretty face! He felt sick with dread and a self-consciousness he’d thought he had put behind him.

The crowd had become a hazy blur, reduced to smears of colour, but he still felt every eye that picked him out as an imposter and every hidden smile of mockery at his expense. He should have made up some fanciful tale, he should have distracted her with flattery, he should have just kept his mouth shut, but Lady Pashavar had such kind eyes. Eyes that had crinkled with distaste, poorly hidden, when he’d revealed too much.

Here was a lowly street urchin who had clawed his way up into their elevated circles, playing the part of the up-and-coming merchant. Suddenly all his charm, his fine clothes, his handsome face, and the good opinion of his patrons didn’t matter at all. The illusion faded and all that was left was the truth. A hungry young man with a borrowed name.

I gotta say, I love to read about charming con artists and savvy urchins that manage to claw their way up into the high society and nobility. Something about the idea of the trappings of the upper echelons with the hidden agendas, subtle politicking, and double speak combined with watching a character who’s nothing but want dancing on the knife’s edge is very appealing. Everyone loves a well written underdog.

Mask of Mirrors by MA Carrick has two of my absolute favourite characters like that, and I highly recommend the series if you’re interested in political intrigue and conspiracy focused fantasy. The trilogy is incredibly written, and I can’t speak highly enough about the complex characters and world-building that draw you in from the first chapter. The high page count is well worth it.

That’s all for me this today! Please like, comment, and share if you enjoy what you’ve read. 

Above all, be kind to one another. 

Love, Charlotte

Posted on

Writing Prompt #1: Welcome to Arcadia

Happy New Year!

In my creative writing class last fall, we were assigned prompts to keep us writing regularly outside of “big” projects and focus on introducing a new characters’  interiority in only a few words. I ended up really enjoying these exercises! I think this was mostly because they aligned well with how I think about character introductions in the weekly D&D game I run, but also because they made for a fun challenge when taken a little further. 

I ended up not just focusing on introducing a character in a way that makes them feel real and complex, but also adding into as much subtle worldbuilding as I could without it being distracting. That’s what really made writing these little snippets engaging (although admittedly that part was just for me and not really for the reader).

Our first prompt was to write about someone returning to academia after a period of time away.

Now I’ll admit, on the surface that’s not something I would usually write about, which I think adds to the value of it as an exercise. How do you spin a small idea so that it’s something interesting that you would write about? I came up with this:

It’s not like Irene hadn’t known what being back here was going to be like. After all, this had been the plan for half a year after the new education requirements had come out and her arguments about years of experience had counted for exactly nothing at the department.

But there was a big difference between knowing and seeing for herself. Of being physically present in a place she hadn’t stood in a decade and a half. 

University of Arcadia, Class of 2008. Was that really that long ago? 

She felt oddly disembodied, another ghost haunting the old place, while fresh-faced early-twenty-somethings chattered in their own small groups. She let the noise wash over her, trying to find the familiarity. Everything looked the same as it had before – ivy laden brick buildings in the places they’d always been, the same towering oaks, hell even some of the same professors – just a little older and grayer. The background was the same, but everything else was overwhelmingly different and it was… jarring. Like missing the last step on the stairs. Exciting in a way, but you don’t exactly want your trip downstairs to remind you of your own mortality. 

Unfortunately for Irene, pausing to survey all the students rushing to morning class was starting to do just that. She sighed before standing up straighter and squaring her shoulders. She was here for a purpose, and that purpose was not feeling sorry for herself. There’d be plenty of time for that later.

This came from a short story idea I’ve had simmering for a while now, although it would never fit into what I think I want that story to be (like I said, I have no interest in the whole returning to academia bit). I’ll share more about that another time.

For now though, if you’re a writer or artist, I encourage you to try exercises like this – there are plenty of free resources and prompts to be found online. They’re simple, creative, and helpful for getting away from the stress of a larger project to focus on something new.

That’s all from me today! Please like, comment, and share if you enjoy what you’ve read. 

Above all, be kind to one another. 

Love, Charlotte